The Changing Winds
by Luna Silvereyes
Summary: The Kristiansand Base Settlement is faring smoothly with its protection under the Norwegian Monarchy and the guidance of its leader, Marjorie Acroyali. However, when tragedy strikes hard, threatening the safety of the village, Marjorie, an as yet untested leader, is now forced to take charge to defend the safety of her people and possibly save the life of her dearest friend as well
1. One

The Changing Winds

One

"How's the new girl doing back there, Seras?"

"You mean besides the quote unquote 'rainbow bread' and the rice cracker croissants?" Seras grumbled irritably, sighing heavily. She took a drink of her tea and removed her white cloth scarf tying her hair back, stuffing it in her apron pocket, "Marjorie, it's probably not a good thing that I, a vampire, am a better baker than a human."

Both of them looked up at the wispy trail of black smoke beginning to filter out into the bakery's main room, followed by the rancid stench of burnt bread. Now it was Marjorie's turn to sigh, "Well, she had excellent references and she mentioned her grandmother once ran a bakery, so it seemed to make sense."

The sound of sharp coughing met their ears and a tall, lanky brunette popped her head out through the kitchen doorway, "Everything's okay, guys. Just a little bit of dough frying in the bottom of the oven."

She disappeared again and this time, both girls sighed.

"I'll see if she's any good on register." Marjorie said.

"Good. I'd better get back there and start cleaning up." Seras replied, her shoulders sagging as she re-tied her kerchief about her head. Marjorie watched as she trudged back into the kitchen and a few seconds later, the new girl was promptly shoved out, the kitchen door slamming behind her. The young trainee blinked a few times in surprise and then turned to look back at the door curiously, "Um…what was that about?"

Marjorie hummed and smiled sheepishly, "Uh, never mind, Grace. Why don't I teach you how to use the register?"

Grace bit her lip, glancing back at the kitchen door one more time where Seras could be heard grumbling to herself and noisily moving heavy objects around. She shrugged, "Okay, sure."

Marjorie spent the next hour or so teaching Grace how to use the cash register and telling which types of bread belonged in the different wicker baskets hanging on the shelves behind the counter. Much to her relief, Grace seemed to fare better behind the counter rather than behind the scenes as a baker. It truly _was_ ironic; like Seras said, the vampire seemed a better cook than the human who could taste things. When the aforementioned vampire brought a tray of fresh butter rolls out for the baskets, Grace chuckled sheepishly and apologized for leaving such a chaotic mess in the kitchen.

"Nah, it's fine," Seras said with a grin, "You should have seen what _I_ was like when I first started baking."

"Yeah," Marjorie agreed, "She was five times worse."

"Hey!"

"So do you work here all day then?" Grace asked her. Seras shook her head, "No, I'm usually on the night shift. Our normal daytime baker is on maternity leave right now. She'll be back in about two weeks."

She set the empty basket on the counter and began arranging the rolls in the shelves so they looked pleasing, "This is your first day here, right?"

"Yeah, but you already knew that."

"It's just a conversation starter. You okay working with a couple of vampires?" Seras asked with a lopsided grin. Grace shrugged, "Well…yeah, sure. I mean, it's kinda hard to avoid you guys; you're everywhere around here. Heck, my older brother has a crush on a vampire living next door to us."

Marjorie pressed a hand to her forehead, "Oh boy…I wish him luck." She mumbled.

"What?"

Seras rolled her eyes and clapped Grace on the back, "It's nothing; just a big headache waiting for him, is all."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Seras chuckled, tossing her a butter roll, "Here, take five and have a snack. I'm going to try to teach you how to bake—the _right_ way."

She led Grace back into the kitchen, turning toward Marjorie before they disappeared, "You got it covered out here?"

"Yes. Wynter is going to stop by a little later with some reports that she and Integra worked on last night. I'd better wait for them."

"Cool."

Marjorie listened as they vanished into the back and then sighed heavily, sagging in her barstool slightly. She played with one of her braids absently, gazing out the freshly cleaned windows of the bakery at the busy street beyond. In the seven years since the arrival of Wynter and her family at Kristiansand, the town had continually grown more populated, both with supportive humans and vampires seeking shelter. It was truly amazing how many humans supported their kind after the horrors of nearly eight decades ago. A scant few humans remained alive who remembered it, and survivors of any direct conflict were extremely rare. But it was considered a major historical event and the existence of vampires was now common knowledge, so much so that textbooks now existed in schools educating students about the events that came to be known absurdly simply as WWV. Quite a while back, someone on social media programs had started calling the wars, originally dubbed WWIII, as WWV, with the 'V' standing for vampires, obviously. Tragically, the name had stuck and now, while its official name was still registered as the third world war, most people knew it by its weirder title. People in England called it 'The Battle of London', and several monuments had been erected to honor almost a million victims who fell during that horrific time. Nowadays, the only ones who were likely around back then were the vampiric residents of the tiny coastal town of Kristiansand, including a few veterans of that same war. Marjorie cringed as a heavy tin clattered to the floor in the kitchen and one of those war veterans started grumbling angrily.

She reached over to the side where a porcelain cup of blackberry tea, a local delicacy, sat steaming innocently. She took a sip and set it aside, lowering her head to a stack of forms she'd received that morning from the border guards. They were applications from vampires waiting at the boundary lines between Kristiansand and the rest of Norway. They were applying to be allowed into the city-state of vampire refugees and it was Marjorie's job to approve or disapprove them before they were given clearance. Most of the time, the applicants appeared trustworthy, although all applicants were given escorts and mandatory surveillance for one week following their entry, and this was explained to them before they arrived. If they showed any sign of causing trouble or unrest amongst the town, or threatening the humans, they were placed on probation. Repeated offenses resulted in banishment from the settlement. Marjorie knew this was only a temporary procedure; they'd probably be able to siphon it out of the acceptance program once the system became more commonplace.

"So…two human males traveling with three vampires, two females, one male," she read to herself, "That's five people at once. A bit unusual. I suppose I could board them at the hotel until we've fixed up a few more houses east of here."

She noted the contact information and set about to the tedious task of going over their application information. Information had to be verified through databases she put together in the bakery's computer and Wynter came and encrypted the data a few times a year. A calling the guards who submitted the applications for those seeking entry, she cleared them for admittance and scheduled a few senior members to accompany them to and from the hotel for the first few days.

She hung up and sighed, finishing off her tea. Outside, the streets were calm and placid around this time of day. It was going on two in the afternoon, around the time when they stopped baking and started prepping for the next day. She could tell when she heard Seras turn the ovens off that she was getting ready for this. The younger vampire worked there part time, constantly on-call from the Riot Force formed to break up fights and prevent tension within the town. There had been times when she'd had to bolt out of the bakery in a flash in order to join her teammates elsewhere in town, sometimes not returning for up to two or three hours. The group was doing an amazing job of breaking up arguments non-violently and Marjorie had to admit she was impressed. Thankfully, crime was pretty slow in Kristiansand. The most trouble they had were the occasional disagreements between the two species living there or an outsider attempting to sneak in for varying reasons. Only once had she felt the need to call in Wynter and Alucard. Exactly one year after their arrival, agents from Scotland Yard had arrived with orders from the Round Table Council to hand over the former Hellsing inhabitants, Wynter, Seras, and Alucard. They'd brought a professional vampire hunter with them to subdue the three vampires. While everyone had been relieved that they still didn't know about Integra, who was forced to keep herself hidden for another decade or so, Marjorie still refused to hand them over and informed them to take up the matter with Norway's government. The agents were willing to cooperate, but the hunter they'd brought with them wasn't so agreeable. The hunter, barely twenty years of age at least, had broken away from his guides and pulled a weapon on the crowd, ordering them to hand over the vampires they were looking for. It was then that Wynter had taken the initiative and summoned Alucard who arrived soon after and challenged the kid to try and kill him, which the kid attempted. It wasn't until Alucard proved that he was certainly no easy target that the horrified amateur hunter had backed down, leaving Wynter to confront the group as Kristiansand's ambassador. They agreed to take up the matter with Norway's government. Marjorie heard later that the King had flat-out refused to honor the order, asking them to return to England empty-handed. Disaster averted and Wynter and Marjorie both returned to their busy lives running the settlement.

She glanced up at the door, frowning, "Speak of the devil…," she mumbled, "Where is she anyway? She's running late."

She glanced off to the side as Seras came back out of the kitchen, folding her apron up and removing her kerchief, "Well, time to go on duty. Prep is all finished, Marjorie."

"Thanks, Seras. I wish I could offer you guys some bread or something to take back with you." She answered sadly.

"Yeah, me too. I'm utterly in love with those blackberry brambles on our property and the garden Wynter's got up in the forest. But that's about it, I'm afraid."

"Where's Grace?"

"She's cleaning up back there. We're having our monthly meeting this afternoon at the precinct so I have to leave early. Do you have anything else you need?"

Marjorie shook her head, "No, we're all set here. Just waiting for Wynter to show up with those reports."

"She spends a lot of time outdoors," Seras pointed out, "Between her garden and here, exploring the mountains and what-not, we usually only see her in the mornings."

Marjorie flipped the applicant book shut and pushed it aside, "Well, with Louis currently visiting the capital, it's pretty quiet around here." She said, shrugging, "I keep telling myself every day that the boredom is a good thing."

"That's one way to put it I suppose. Well, I'll see you later!"

She rushed out the door, nearly crashing into Wynter as she finally showed up. The two sisters paused to greet one another before Seras dashed off. The elder vampire came inside, removing her grass sunhat and placing it on the coatrack. She approached the counter, carrying a binder in one hand. Her very long, black hair was done up in a loose braid and she was wearing one of her newer outfits; a blue sundress with magenta and yellow trim. Marjorie noted with amusement that she was still wearing the dirt-smeared smock she used while gardening.

"Sorry I'm late, Marjorie," Wynter said, "I was working in my garden and lost track of the time."

"If _you_ can lose track of the time, then it truly _must_ be peaceful here." Marjorie joked, "How are you doing?"

"Wonderful. I've expanded my land plots further up the mountain and added a fence to keep animals away. How do you feel about adding fresh barley rolls to your menu?" she asked with a smirk.

"You're joking; you've got _barley_ growing up there?" Marjorie exclaimed with a laugh.

"I won't be able to get much of it going. I don't have enough space. Plus with all the fertilizer I need to keep the soil from leaching, most of my budget gets eaten up pretty fast. Selling at the farmer's markets definitely helps and the house still needs some TLC."

"What about all that open space in front of the house?"

"Moles."

"Oh," Marjorie said, biting her lip, "Yeah, I guess that does pose a problem. So aside from your trips to your garden, what else holds your interest on the mountain? You spend so much time on it, but it's a complete wilderness up there."

Wynter shrugged, "Oh, this and that. I love my walks. And then when I get to the top, gliding back down is really fun." She said with a smile.

Marjorie's face showed heavy skepticism, but she rolled her eyes and sighed, "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it. Now, as for those reports?"

Wynter handed the binder over, "Integra and I managed to get most of these done last night. Conditions are getting more favorable for expanding our city limits. The Chancellor to the King seems to agree with us on that front."

"My advisors have analyzed all of our data for the past four years, including the growth rate and economic stability of the town," Marjorie said, leafing through the papers, "We're nearing the amount of optimism we need to begin thinking about expanding."

"That's good, but we still have a small problem."

"What?"

"Whenever you get a chance, please give Alucard something to do. He's starting to get a little restless. I think he's like a sheepdog; he needs to be kept busy in order to be kept happy. I spar with him a few times a week and Integra goes with him to different places, but it's not enough. And Seras isn't experienced enough yet to spar with him and they both know it, so asking her to help is out."

"I'm a little hesitant to put him on active duty," Marjorie said worriedly, "You can understand my reasoning. However, it's possible we may need his services again as a defense strategist. He may even be called upon to fight. Could you ask him if he'd be interested for me?"

"Glad to, thanks. Now then, any other business?"

"In a hurry or something?"

Wynter glanced behind her, as if deep in thought. She hummed, "No, not really. I remembered that I was due to come see you while I was fixing a hole in the fence around my garden. I left it in a hurry to come back down here."

"And what's with the thermos?" Marjorie asked, gesturing to the blue thermos bottle Wynter had tied to her wrist. She held it up, smiling, "Chilled blackberry tea, of course."

The elder vampire giggled, "You and Seras are sure fond of those things. We now live in a world where vampires eat blackberries."

"Beats blood. I wish we could give that up entirely."

"Lets' enjoy one miracle at a time. Now, go on back to your garden. I've got work to do and a new employee to show the ropes to."

They both jumped as the kitchen door opened and Grace poked her head out, "Someone call me?" she said, grinning.

"In earnest, dear," Marjorie said, "Come on in. Have you met Wynter yet?"

Grace looked over at the newcomer and frowned, tilting her head slightly as she studied her, "I think I've seen you around but I don't think I've met you personally."

Wynter extended her hand, "I'm Alucard's eldest daughter, Seras's sister." She explained.

Grace chuckled, shaking her hand, "Seras and Alucard, I've met." She confirmed, "If you don't mind me saying so, Alucard is a bit scary."

"You should try living with him." Wynter said wryly, "But he's relatively nice once you get to know him. Morbid, but nice."

"So…you're not scared of him?" Grace asked in awe.

"He's my sire; why should I be?" Wynter said, laughing, "After knowing him for two-hundred and thirty-two years, I have to say I may have grown rather fond of him."

"Now she's venturing into sarcasm territory." Marjorie said, grinning.

"One more quip out of you and I'll cut off rights to our blackberry brambles." Wynter grumbled, "Well, I'm off. I've got work to do on the mountain."

"Getting dark out," Grace said, "Be careful."

Both vampires turned and looked at her in amazement. Wynter started laughing exuberantly and Marjorie sighed, shaking her head with a weary smile. Grace looked back and forth between both of them, heavily confused and wondering what she'd said to amuse them so greatly. Wynter finally calmed down and waved, "Thanks, I needed that! Have a good evening, Marjorie." She said as she grabbed her hat and took off.

Grace turned to Marjorie, "Seriously, what'd I say?"

"You just told a vampire— _Wynter_ no less—to be careful now that it's getting dark."

Grace immediately went red as she realized her mistake, "Oh…right." She mumbled, smiling sheepishly. Marjorie giggled, "Go on and make sure everything's ready to go for our morning staff tomorrow. After that, you can head on home."

"Okay." She replied, hurrying back into the kitchen. Marjorie sighed and gathered up the binders and books, setting them on the floor. She opened a wooden hatch in the floor beneath her stool and gently slid each binder into it, shutting and locking it again with a key she wore about her neck. She pushed the stool back on top of the hatch and straightened up, moving toward the door as Grave remerged from the back, removing her apron.

"Ready," she said breathlessly, "It's all set."

"Good."

They went outside and Marjorie locked the door behind them. She glanced at Grace mischievously, "Now it's getting dark, so be careful dear." She said playfully.

Grace reddened again and whirled, "That's just mean!" she snapped, stamping off down the street. Marjorie watched her go and then headed off the opposite direction toward the house she, Samantha and Simon shared. It was close to the port, making the three of them some of the very small handful of vampires to live within city limits. But it was necessary given their status among the residents. Marjorie, though well-known as a vampire, needed to stay within relative safety of crowds due to her small stature and weak power. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in intellect. Now that her time as a leader was fully instated, she was growing more every day. But even so, every day revealed to her how much she still didn't know about leading a large group of supporters. Next to Alucard, she was one of the oldest vampires in the country at just under four hundred years. Louis came in third and Wynter finished at fourth. Even so, she still often felt as if she knew nothing about her job or what she was expected to be doing for an entire settlement. More people depended on her for guidance than ever before. If she became unable to handle the pressure and responsibilities, the settlement would crumble.

As she approached the house, she noticed the lights were on and the front door open. She saw Samantha outside on the front steps talking to a couple of younger vampires. She appeared to be giving them directions. The three of them noticed Marjorie approaching and the two youngsters thanked Samantha and ran off, greeting Marjorie as they went. She waved at them passing and sighed, making her way up the steps, "Evening, Samantha."

"Hey, how are you Marjorie?"

"Doing well. Where's Simon?"

"Delivering the evening mail. Third shift will be starting up soon. Those girls work at the port at night as cleaners."

"Our newcomer to the bakery is doing well. She's getting the hang of cleaning, but baking is going to be another matter." Marjorie admitted, sitting down at the table in the warmly lit front room.

Samantha moved past her, "She'll get the hang of it before too long, I'm sure. Did Wynter stop by?"

"Yeah, she did. She came down in a hurry; she was still wearing her farming clothes and everything." The elder vampire said, giggling, "She sure spends a lot of time out there. But she's good to her word about coming down regularly to help us when we need it."

"She's always been reliable," Samantha agreed, "Seras is proving a valuable asset to us as well. She's broken up three small fights over at the wharf in under a week."

Marjorie nodded, "She did used to be a police officer once upon a time. I'm not surprised; she's well suited for the job. Wynter also told me she's been in contact with an old friend in Italy."

Samantha glanced back at her in surprise, "Italy? Who in the world remembers us out there?"

Marjorie raised an eyebrow, "You mean besides the entire Iscariot Organization? They're still there, you know. In fact, believe it or not, they know where we are, but they're in support of keeping us here. If they wanted to kill us, they would've sent professional hunters here already."

"That's true enough," Samantha agreed warily, "But they're still hunters, aren't they?"

"Wynter said that they seem to be hunting only direct threats to humans, including other humans. They're still as zealous as they always were, it seems, for what it gets them, anyway. They never fully recovered _their_ strength either following the war and Father Anderson's death. They lost a lot of people."

"Don't sound so dejected about it." Samantha grumbled in disgust, "They killed just as many of us over the years."

"No one deserves to have their life stolen from them," Marjorie said sternly, "However, idealistic as that is, it's sadly not _real_ istic. Sometimes, it just can't be helped. And Wynter was oddly fond of them, Father Anderson in particular. I try to respect her wishes."

Samantha pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation, "Honestly, that girl is a piece of work…I mean, organizing an alliance with _that_ man!? He was crazy! _She's_ crazy!"

Marjorie laughed out loud, "Are you forgetting whose daughter she is? I'd expect nothing less of her. Just don't tell her what you just said to me; she's liable to throw you in the bay."

"I'll try to remember that."

"In any event, we have five newcomers waiting at the eastern border. I'll send some scouts to go and pick them up tomorrow. I'll be boarding them in the hotel until we have a house ready."

"We've been getting a lot of refugees in lately," Samantha said ponderously, turning toward the window to gaze out at the bay, "Too many to be comfortable with."

"You're too suspicious, Samantha. Newcomers wanting to join our ranks is a good thing." Marjorie assured her.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not; but you remember the last time there were too many vampires appearing out of nowhere." She mumbled with a knowing glance out of the corner of her eye. Marjorie's optimism deflated and she sighed, gazing down at the table with her arms folded, "You're right; no one could have seen _that_ coming. And we _barely_ escaped in time. But the Major is dead, his research destroyed. Those pathetic chipped copies won't be coming back."

Samantha was honestly surprised at the sheer bitterness in Marjorie's voice as she said this. Turning around, she saw Marjorie sitting stiffly, her neck bowed and her head hanging low, boring holes into the table with her eyes behind her glasses. She could practically hear her teeth grinding.

"Well," she finally said with a hefty sigh, "We can't think of it like that. We're in the positive state we are _because_ of the Major…albeit in a warped, bloody fashion. Our lives are uneventful and peaceful, but only because we _want_ it this way. We're doing well…for the first time in over a century, vampires like us actually have hope for a change. It…it's good."

Samantha stared at her friend sadly, recalling how Marjorie often battled with herself over her instincts and natural fear of humans after all she'd been through. Even though she had been the one to calm Marjorie down upon their first chaotic meeting, she still didn't quite believe it sometimes; the amount of raw power the girl could possess when she felt the urge to protect herself. She still had a lot to learn, even though she was the second oldest vampire in Norway.

"I think I'll take up watch tonight," Samantha recommended, "You can go ahead and get some rest."

"What?" Marjorie exclaimed in surprise. Samantha approached and placed her hand atop Marjorie's head, a lop-sided smile on her face, "Seriously, please get some sleep. You're burning the candle at both ends trying to keep pace with Wynter and I'm starting to worry about you."

Marjorie's eyes widened, "Wha…keep pace?"

"Bed. Now. I'll keep watch."

Marjorie knew better than to argue with Samantha who had proven before she was the stronger willed. She gave up this time and agreed, heading toward the stairs to her own room. She heard Samantha pull a chair over to the window to unlock the sash at the top in order to get to the fire escape. As she reached the top stair, she wondered about that statement. Trying to keep pace with Wynter was what she'd said. So what in God's name did that mean?

However, Samantha _was_ right; she truly was exhausted. As she sat at the mirror on her bedside table and brushed out her long dark hair, she allowed her mind to wander at the oddity of this town, and the seclusion and safety it provided its residents. So much so, that it allowed a nocturnal creature such as she to sleep at night and feel peaceful. A changing lifestyle was a luxury for a vampire and she relished the ability to do so as a daywalker. Every day, she gave thanks for the circumstances that allowed this lifestyle to exist and every night she closed her eyes, she willed herself never to take it for granted. Even so….

"I'll ask her about that remark tomorrow." Marjorie whispered, burying herself under her soft blanket and closing her eyes with a sigh. Might as well enjoy the rest now while she could get it.

/ooo/

"Go on, get out of here! Scram!"

Wynter chased a small flock of deer away from the chicken wire currently guarding her plot of cabbage she was preparing for the farmer's market the following month. They'd been pestering her for her crops for weeks once they'd broken through the soil. She'd already lost half her potatoes to the boar that roamed the mountainside. She'd be damned if she lost anything else. The mountain was full of things for the animals to eat; there was no way she was going to spoil them by letting them eat her crops.

"Never give up, eh?"

"Of course they don't. They'll be back within the hour." Wynter grumbled.

"No, Ah meant you."

"What was that?" she snarled, whirling to face him as he stood on the other side of her miniature field, hands in his pockets and smirking over at her. He chuckled and looked away, "Oops, backfire." He said chidingly.

"Come over here and say that to my face." She snapped at him.

"Even if Ah fell for that, we both knoo Ah'd win."

"Wouldn't stop me from at least getting a shot in. Besides, you may be stronger, but I'm faster."

"Care t' wager on that?"

"Are you that bored?"

"Not at all. Hooever, if you're up t' the challenge…?"

Wynter grinned and laughed, "Maybe I would be, but not right now. I've got to get this fence up before the deer come back. I didn't have nearly enough for the market last year."

He approached quietly and knelt down, eying her work so far, "It's no' bad."

"Not to be rude, but how would you know?" she asked, genuinely curious. He took the pliers from her and started working to twist the spare wire back into place, "Back at the orphanage, there was a small garden oot back. In the beginning, Ah was the oon'y one with even a scant amount o' knowledge aboot this kind o' thing, so it was often up t' me t' fix these things."

Wynter watched, fascinated as he was able to work quickly, but very efficiently even in the low light. He proved immediately that he knew what he was doing. She took the rest of the wire and started cutting it into strips. For the next few minutes, they worked silently. He could see the sharp glow of her eyes in the darkness in his peripheral vision. He'd noticed a while ago that it had finally stopped making him uneasy. One of the few fears of vampires he'd held onto had finally ebbed away. He wasn't sure if he should be disturbed or grateful.

He finished connecting the new wire and stood up, watching as she gathered up the remaining supplies and put them in the red messenger bag she wore across her chest. She straightened up, fishing through the bag. She pulled a couple of thick books out, very old in appearance, "Here," she said, handing these to him, "Marjorie cleared me access to the new library in town. These are for you."

"Thank you, Wynter." He said, taking them. He was oddly touched that she'd remembered after all this time how much he enjoyed reading, especially older books with yellowing pages; those were honestly the best kind.

"Ah'm honestly no' sure where you manage t' find so many books as old as these." He said.

"You'd have to ask the library. I kind of just pick them at random since you'll read just about anything."

Sitting on the ground against the base of the enormous granite cliffs soaring high above them, he leafed carefully through the first of the two books while she sat beside him, writing something down in her gardening catalogue she was keeping for the market next month.

"You knoo something," he said, causing her to glance at him curiously, "In a' mah years as a vampire hunter, Ah never thought Ah'd see one preparing t' manage a vegetable stand."

"Hmmm." She grumbled irritably, "Yeah, but now you've learned that we're _not_ all God-defying mindless monsters. Or…have you?"

He smirked at her wryly, "Yes, Ah have, for the most part." He replied, setting the book he held aside and picking up the other one.

"You say the weirdest things sometimes, Alexander. It's amazing how you still manage to surprise me somehow. After seven years, you'd think I'd have learned all your tricks."

"No' even close. O' course, Ah'm still trying t' figure _you_ oot, so we're kind o' even."

"Well, good luck on _that_ one. Two-hundred and thirty-two years and I've yet to see any man succeed in figuring any woman out. That especially includes my master, the dense idiot…."

"Must you keep reminding me o' hoo old you are?" he asked in exasperation.

"Not every vampire gets to _be_ as old as I am, so I'm a bit proud of it." She said with a shrug, "So you're younger than me; big deal."

"Ignoring the paradox yet again, Ah see." He said snidely. She jabbed him, "Shut it."

She fell silent, gazing up at the nearly full moon high above them in the inky, near starless sky. It was so bright that she probably could have written in her journal without her night vision.

"I'm not needed at the bakery tomorrow; they're training a new employee."

"Human or vampire?"

"Human, and apparently, quite the klutz. Nice girl, though. Her name is Grace. So, since Marjorie and Seras will be busy with that, I'm not needed for a couple of days."

She leaned against him, snuggling closer and closing her eyes contentedly. He glanced down at her, not saying anything. He looked out toward the edge of the cliff she'd chosen as her little garden area, overlooking the sea and the cape a good two miles away. Prior to his interesting turn in 'life', he'd never actually been to Norway. It had always been out of the Vatican's jurisdiction for hunting. In fact, up until recently, he'd never heard of Norwegian vampires before. He assumed that the population of humans wasn't big enough to support that many of them, so they stuck to semi-crowded places to sustain themselves.

"I wish you didn't have to hide up here." She mumbled suddenly.

"What?"

"Don't get me wrong; I love visiting you, and it's quiet up here so no one bothers us…but I feel bad that you can't come into the town. No human would bat an eye at you, but I'm certain some of the vampires would know who you are, Marjorie especially. On top of that…I can't ask that of you. Just having you here is enough."

"Ah'm a'right up here, Wynter," he reassured her, "Ah spend mah days as a falcon and mah nights as a human. It works oot fine."

"You're on neutral ground, now. You'll never fight for, or against us and for that at least, I'm thankful."

"Your life is complicated enough; why do you continue t' visit me?" he asked, genuinely curious. She raised her head off his shoulder and looked up at him quizzically, "What, you don't want me to visit?" she asked.

"Ah did'nae say that," he muttered.

She got to her feet and moved off a short ways, gazing out over the water with her arms folded. Her silhouette turned dramatic as the wind ruffled through her hair and she shuddered her wings with a sigh. She looked back at him, her eyes flaming in the darkness of her own shadow against the moonlight, "I only have one answer. Would that suffice, or should I wrack my brain for another one that might make even less sense?"

"Ah believe Ah a'ready knoo your answer." He replied quietly.

"Good. I visit you because I choose to. That's part of the reason I work up here, so I have more excuses to spend more time with you. Of course, the heavy population of moles in the front yard helps," she said with a cheeky grin before turning serious again, "I do what I like, and I like to be with you. Isn't that enough?"

"It is, and Ah'm sorry."

"Yeah, I am too. If I annoy you, it's not like I mean to."

"As if Ah'll believe _that_."

"Do you realize what a creep you can be sometimes?" she grumbled, glaring down at him.

"For the record, you're the oon'y one Ah speak to that way."

"So I'm your favorite, then." She stated. She sighed, moving back over to sit beside him again, "It's kind of boring to be the favorite since I'm the only one who interacts with you. Aaaaand…that brings me back to my depression. Lovely."

"That one was on you, Wynter." He pointed out.

"Well, you're not helping!"

She stormed to her feet again and stalked off to her garden in time to chase off another enterprising deer. Anderson noted the several black feathers lying on the ground where she'd walked and he shook his head, "You need t' calm doon, Wynter; you're molting again."

Her shoulders sagged in defeat, "I'm aware. You know me, Alexander; I always get uptight when I'm frustrated. It's been this way since day one. It's a wonder my wings aren't bald by now."

"It's ae wonder Alucard tolerated you for as long as he did."

"I'll ignore that. Why don't you come down tomorrow? As the bird, I mean. No one questions me whenever you're like that."

She hurried back over and knelt on the ground before him, grinning, "Please?"

"If Ah say yes, will you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"You knoo what."

She chuckled and bared her fangs, " _I'm_ the favorite." She chimed.

The year before, Marjorie had presented Wynter with a quote unquote "birthday" present in the form of a thin black banded watch she now wore on her right wrist. Glancing at the tiny face, she sighed, "Damn…it'll be morning soon. I'd better head back before the others start wondering where I am."

They both knew Alucard was aware of the real reason for her forays up into the mountain every night. What they _didn't_ care to have happen was for Integra or Seras to find out. Alucard was surprisingly passive with the knowledge and although he was annoying in his occasional teasing of her, Wynter knew he'd keep the secret.

She gathered her things up into the messenger bag and stood up. He followed suit, hands in his pockets as he regarded her silently, "Ah'll come doon tomorrow afternoon. Keep an eye oot," he told her.

"Thanks," she mumbled, "I appreciate it. I'd advise you of the same, but I'm starting to think your vision has become even sharper than mine."

He had to chuckle a bit at that, "Then Ah'll try no' t' rub it in."

"Well, at least that's one thing I can count on."

He drew closer and kissed her gently on the forehead, ruffling her hair fondly, "Please be careful on your way back doon." he muttered.

"Aw, aren't I always?"

"No." he said flatly. Her face fell and she looked up at him sardonically, "You know, you _could_ pretend with me." She said. She didn't really mean that, though. He wasn't very outward, but it was always the subtle things he said or did that served to remind her of how much he cared for her, even something as simple as a trip back down the mountain. She sighed and folded her hands behind her back, "Okay, would you feel better if I flew instead?"

"Yes."

She snapped her wings open in response, "Very well, you win." She said.

"Ah a'ways seem t' win."

"You don't think I've noticed?" she grumbled. He stepped back, reflexively covering his face as a tremendous gust of wind tore through the clearing, scattering leaves and feathers. When he was able to look again, she was gone.

And so was he. In his place, a black spotted white falcon stretched its own wings and took off into the trees, settling on a branch and drifting into a peaceful sleep.

A/N: Okay, this is the start. Now, this is directly connected to the Simple Memory series, but this story and any that may or may not follow it, are not a part of the same theme. Same world, same characters, same themes, different idea. Wynter isn't the main character here, though she's an influential side character. I felt like I left too many things unanswered in the epilogue, which I know ended up twice as long as predicted. Please review constructively. This is likely the last series of fanfictions I'll ever dedicate time to. I've already begun deleting things I'll never finish. So enjoy future installments of this story as I work on getting it off the ground.


	2. Two

Two

"Are you sure he'll stay there?"

"Positive. I've yet to see him cause trouble."

"Okay, since when can you guarantee that?"

Marjorie sat behind the counter at the bakery, watching Wynter and Seras discuss the falcon sitting up on top of the display cabinet against the wall, staring down at them and seemingly following the debate.

"Just trust me; he'll stay put." Wynter assured her, glancing up at the bird, "Won't you?"

The falcon ruffled its feathers.

"See?"

Seras's expression was indeterminate; "Wynter…you're weird."

She returned to the kitchen and Wynter grabbed an apron, tying her long hair back into a ponytail, "So, since I've got nothing else to do, need any help?"

Marjorie frowned, "You don't have to be here today, Wynter. We're pretty set for a while."

"I know, but we're due for rain today, my fences are up, Alucard and Integra are out somewhere, and I'm bored."

Marjorie gasped, faking shock and horror, "Oh heavens, you're _bored!?_ No, not bored! Anything but that!" she exclaimed, laughing, "Oh fine, you can work here a while if you'd like. But what about him?"

She jerked her thumb in the falcon's direction. It was still sitting up there, unmoving, but watching them. Wynter smiled, "Well, if he gets restless, just open the door and let him out. He'll do what he likes."

She retreated back into the kitchen and Marjorie eyed the falcon curiously as it dozed atop the cabinet, its wings tucked tightly against itself. She had to admit; it was an awfully calm bird. Choosing to ignore the bird, she pulled her binder and laptop out and started to work on the new biographies of the arrivals recently brought over from the border. They'd be stopping in sometime that day and she figured it was just as well that Wynter and Seras were both in the bakery; they'd probably want to show the newcomers who they were for future reference. Vampiric residents of the town knew to go to either the bakery or to Wynter or Seras, whichever they ran into first or were closest to whenever they were in trouble.

Marjorie jumped when she heard Wynter behind her suddenly, turning to see her setting a tray of rolls on the counter as she pulled a wicker basket down from the shelf to start filling it. She sighed, "Wynter, don't sneak up on me like that; you scared the daylights out of me."

"Maybe that's a good thing. You probably need those scared out of you after all this time." Wynter joked, lining the rolls up neatly in the basket.

"I really don't think so, thanks." Marjorie grumbled, "I manage just fine without that added stress."

"Huh, 'added stress' is right. You take on enough to deal with running this place. And it's bigger than the Bristol colony ever was." Wynter said admiration.

"Yes, but that makes it so much harder. I'm supposed to meet Louis at the capital next month to speak with the Chancellor about expanding our territory to allow more refugees in. We only have room for maybe three hundred more individuals and at the rate they're coming, we'll reach that goal before too long."

"I see your point," Wynter said with a sympathetic smile, "But don't forget; this is what we wanted. You can handle it, Marjorie. You don't really give yourself enough credit."

Marjorie sighed indignantly, "That isn't the problem. I'm sure I can handle it, but I still have a lot to learn about governing. And keeping the Royal Family satisfied that we're worth their protection is no easy task. One of the King's advisors recommended adding specially trained vampires to the _Forsvaret_."

Wynter frowned darkly, "Oh, because that ended _so_ well when Nazi-Germany did it." She snarled quietly, "We are _not_ sending our vampires into the goddamn _army_! That gets across the entirely wrong message to the world."

"The King seems to like the idea," Marjorie said quietly, "So I came up with a compromise I'll bring up next month during the meeting; I'll allow a strictly small group of individuals to assist in the Cyber Force and the Home Guard. And then, they'll serve as direct representatives to the Kristiansand Base Settlement."

Wynter seemed unconvinced, but she nodded slowly, "Fine, but you need to add that they are forbidden from engaging unless directly ordered to do so. And then we should consider placing Alucard in charge of that decision."

Marjorie's eyes widened in alarm, "Wha— _Alucard!?_ Why? It's such a major decision! I mean if he should—" she exclaimed, trailing off at Wynter's incredulous expression. She raised an eyebrow, "Why _not_? Marjorie, he may be brash, but he's by no means senseless. He knows when to use discretion and when to attack. He also knows that there're more on the line here than just a bit of mild entertainment for his boredom; it's the fate of a small developing country. He understands how these things work."

Marjorie listened patiently, running the idea through her mind, "Well…yes, I suppose he would, wouldn't he? Given who he is, I wouldn't be surprised, but…."

Wynter chuckled, "Don't tell _him_ that. He doesn't really like to be reminded. It makes him sulk and that's just the saddest sight I can think of." She said mirthfully.

"So it's a choice between him sulking or being obnoxious. What a choice to have to make." Marjorie joked. She looked away, "All right, I'll consider it. It _does_ make sense, at that."

"Glad to hear it." Wynter said, untying her hair and then retying it into a higher ponytail. She was about to replace the kerchief on her head and return to the kitchen when they heard the bells on the front door ring. Marjorie turned and smiled, "Well, good timing. Seems our new arrivals are here." She said.

Into the bakery stepped a tall, lanky individual wearing a dark blue long coat with three black straps holding it shut. His medium length, wispy blond hair was tied back out of his face with a piece of string and he turned narrow, coppery-red eyes toward Marjorie and Wynter. He offered a light bow out of respect, "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully, "I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long."

"Not at all, Roderick. Come in." Marjorie said. He did so, followed by five individuals, all looking haggard and weary, but alert and cautious as they took in their surroundings. Three of the group were young men, two of whom bore a striking resemblance to one another and the third a good deal older in appearance with stringy brown hair and dull eyes. The other two were a younger girl walking alongside a woman who appeared much older. The young girl kept her hair in two rigid pigtails atop her head, bright red eyes scrutinizing all around her. The woman kept her long chestnut hair in a stringent braid, leading the girl along by the shoulder.

"So this is Kristiansand?" she mumbled, turning toward the vampire called Roderick.

"Yes, it is. This is the settlement you five will be living in, now."

He turned toward the counter again, "These are the five new arrivals. As I mentioned, three vampires, two humans. The brothers here are the only humans, Travis and William Hayward. The older man is Tyrim and the woman is his niece, Vetta. The girl is unrelated. Her name is Cynthia."

Marjorie nodded politely, "It's a pleasure to meet all of you. I hope you'll enjoy living here."

Travis scowled and turned to Roderick, "I thought you said we were meeting the leader here." He snapped.

"We are, and she's here." Roderick growled irritably, irked at the blatant disrespect. Both brothers whirled, their eyes unfortunately falling on Wynter. Travis pointed uncertainly at her and she cleared her throat and shook her head, grinning mischievously, "Sorry, you've got one more choice."

Marjorie chuckled sheepishly as both brothers' jaws dropped at the sight of her and William burst out laughing, "No way! The vampire settlement is run by a little girl!? Oh man, how long 'till this place gets leveled!?" he bellowed, laughing hysterically. Fortunately, his brother seemed to have enough sense to at least blush in embarrassment. There was only a short breeze to indicate rapid movement as Wynter suddenly bore down ominously on the youth, her eyes boring into his and instantly stifling his laughter. Her hair had escaped the string holding it up and billowed darkly behind her as her wings unfurled, her lips curling back to reveal her sharp fangs. William's face immediately drained of blood as he tried to step back away from her.

"Now listen," Wynter purred delicately in a voice that nowhere near matched the animosity rolling off of her in waves, "Marjorie is not only our leader, she's our founder and this settlement has survived decades of abuse thanks to her guidance. And just in case she runs into trouble from firebrands like you, she has help. That's me."

"And me." Another voice said from behind the counter, revealing Seras standing there, also projecting a vicious aura in warning. Tendrils of red-violet shadow matter bled off of her and rippled through the air as her blazing red eyes glared over to the petrified group.

They blinked once. The darkness was gone, the tension lifted. Wynter was now standing in front of the counter, with Seras leaning on it from behind as they watched the newcomers placidly.

"I think you'll like it here," Seras said, chuckling, "And double points if you've got a sense of humor."

"I think they like us." Wynter chimed, glancing at her sister.

"Yeah! And if they like us, they'll _love_ our sire!"

Both girls dissolved into laughter and Marjorie, previously standing behind the counter with her eyes covered in embarrassment, grabbed both of their arms and shoved them, still laughing, back into the kitchen, "Get to work!" she yelled in exasperation.

"Aw, no fun!" Seras cackled from the back.

Marjorie sighed heavily and turned to her guests. Except for Roderick standing with a strained expression on his face, the others were all frozen in a combination of terror and confusion. She giggled nervously, "Uh…don't worry so much everyone. That's just their way of welcoming you to Kristiansand."

"Oh…," Vetta muttered, "I sure do feel…welcomed, now…."

"Y-Yeah," William babbled, still sheet white.

"Uh," Marjorie stammered, composing herself and clearing her throat, "Well, anyway, that was Wynter Genevieve and Seras Victoria Hellsing. They're Alucard's daughters and serve as troubleshooters here in town."

"What!? _The_ Alucard!?" Tyrim exclaimed.

"Yes. He's employed as our defense strategist. You may meet him later," Marjorie explained, "I'll get it out of the way; if you ever run into trouble, come here or find one of those sisters. They'll help you for certain; it's their job. Trust me, they really are nice."

Roderick shook his head, "You'll have to take her word on that." He said bemusedly.

Marjorie stepped out from behind the counter, "Well then, lets' get you all settled. What can you all do?"

The little group exchanged wary glances with one another before Vetta spoke first, "Well, I was a chef before I was turned two months ago, so…." She muttered, her voice fading off. Marjorie beamed, "Perfect! The couple who runs the café down at the harbor was just telling me they'd like some help in their kitchen! Would you be interested?"

Vetta blinked a few times in amazement and looked away, "Well, yes, I would but…I can't really cook anymore, though."

"Of course you can," Marjorie assured her, "Our best baker at the moment is a vampire. Just ask for human assistance in that regard. Now, what about the rest of you? Tyrim?"

Tyrim coughed dryly, "I wonder if it might be possible to stay with Vetta a while longer," he said, "I'm the one who turned her; I'd like to keep an eye on her."

The young leader smiled in understanding, "I see. I'm sure that can be arranged. Now then, you two," she said, addressing Travis and William, "What can you do?"

"Uh," Travis stammered, "Well, I worked in a supermarket for a while before we had to leave town. William hasn't really done much of anything yet."

"I have so!" his brother snapped indignantly, "I helped uncle Jake at his farm for months! Remember?"

"Yeah, before that mule sent you flying!"

"And whose fault was that for sneaking up behind me while I was brushing him!?"

Marjorie tried multiple times to butt into the argument, failing each time as Travis snatched William into a headlock. It was only when Wynter let out a shriek in the kitchen that they froze and stepped back in terror as she poked her head around the doorway, glowering at them. " _Knock it off_!" she shouted, vanishing again.

Marjorie sighed and turned back to the petrified brothers as she managed a pleasant grin, "We'll have you two run deliveries here at the bakery for now," she said somewhat lamely, "This way you'll grow more accustomed to the town."

"Uh…y-yeah, sure." Travis muttered.

"Hey, what about me!?" Cynthia exclaimed exuberantly.

"How old are you, dear?" Marjorie asked curiously.

"I'm seven, going on eight!" she proclaimed quite proudly.

"Do you want to help us here?"

"Here? Doing what?"

"I could really use someone here to help make the shop look pretty to customers. I have a lot of people to keep track of and knowing everything is in good hands would help a lot." Marjorie said with a wink. Cynthia looked up at Vetta, "Could I do that?"

"If you want to, sure." Vetta replied with a shrug. Cynthia turned back around, smiling with a shrug, "I'll try it." She said finally.

"Okay," Marjorie said finally, "Seems we have everything accounted for. Roderick is going to take you to the hotel downtown for now. We're renovating a house in the east district for the five of you, that is, if you wish to stay together."

"For the time being, we do." Tyrim answered quietly.

"Only 'cause Will is too scared to stay by himself." Travis chuckled, jerking his thumb toward his brother.

"Say that to my face, you little—"

"Ahem."

They both froze again as Wynter appeared in the kitchen doorway, her face blank. The fight immediately cooled and she returned quietly to the back. Travis sighed and nudged his brother, "Jeez, can she hear everything?" he whispered.

"Of course I can't!" Wynter yelled back. The twins blanched.

Marjorie giggled and ushered them toward the door, "Go on now, off with you. Get settled. We'll meet back here tomorrow morning to discuss your working arrangements."

She waved after them as Roderick led them outside. Then she turned back with a heavy sigh and plodded over to the counter, sitting down at one of the barstools with a groan, "Oh wow…," she mumbled, "What a group."

Wynter peeked back out again, her hair once again pulled back into a ponytail as she pulled her kerchief off. She moved toward the counter and leaned against it, her arms folded, "So, that's the new group, eh?"

"Yup. Why'd you have to haze them like that?"

"To test their mettle of course. Well, _and_ to put those two boys in their place. They need to learn a little respect."

Marjorie watched her as she wandered back behind the counter and sat down on the stool, smirking at her. She scowled, "Wynter, scaring the daylights out of them was over the line."

Wynter regarded her silently, her crimson eyes staring straight through her as she scrutinized her, "Marjorie, you do realize that you have to command respect, even if you do it politely, don't you? You're not just running a little cabal anymore; you're leading a small nation. If the people can't feel like they can depend on you, then you won't get very far."

The elder vampire drooped her head, removing her glasses, "Yes, I know. I'm working on it, but it's just such a huge transition. Our numbers have skyrocketed now that the rumors of you and Alucard settling here are beginning to spread."

"We're not _that_ great. If anyone is luring people here, it's Alucard. Besides, Seras has more of a public eye than I do. She's better off in the spotlight."

"But you have more of a commanding presence." Marjorie muttered, "You just have to look at someone funny and they shut up. I can't do that."

"Yes, you can," Wynter bit out, "You're too easy on people. It's just like kids, I'd assume. You have to show confidence to be in control."

Marjorie chuckled dryly, her expression cynical, "Maybe I should transfer leadership to you, instead."

"I could never handle running this place."

"Huh?"

Wynter pulled her ponytail out and wrapped the string around her wrist, "My specialty lies in observation. When push comes to shove, I can fight and hold my own. But when dealing with a crowd of people depending on me to decide crucial matters for them, I'm hopeless. I'm not a leader, Marjorie; I'm a follower. Integra and Alucard are leaders. If you want advice, they'd be much better candidates to help you."

"I don't need advice, I need…I need…." She trailed off, unsure of where she was going with that. Wynter got to her feet and stretched, unfurling her wings, "You _need_ confidence. And you'll get it. The next group that comes in, I'll expect you'll handle them with ease."

She faced the doorway, her dark wings folded loosely at her back. Marjorie watched her quietly, noting with silent amusement how much she seemed to enjoy not needing to hide her wings anymore. This became especially apparent when she sat down again, twisted her left wing closer to her and pulled a fine toothed comb from her pocket that she used to groom them gently. Marjorie didn't complain because Wynter did it mainly to amuse herself and besides all that, she kept her wings very clean.

Things certainly were quiet, now. Kristiansand was a relatively secluded town from the rest of Norway. In the seventy-seven years since the war, things were finally beginning to settle back to normal in most places. Even so, with Norway becoming the only haven for vampires and their supporters, Marjorie knew that very soon, things were going to get hectic, at least for her. She knew Wynter was right; soon, she'd have a lot more to deal with than she ever imagined. Keeping the support of the King, managing the town's finances, managing the annual blood drives and enticing volunteers to attend them, organizing employment for their people and keeping fights and suspicion down was only half of the entire story. She couldn't help but feel a bit daunted at the whole prospect now that their collective group was out in the open. In Bristol with the cabal, their numbers had been drastically smaller and much easier to manage. Marjorie hadn't had that much to do back then, honestly. She kept the vampires under her care safe, happy, and quiet.

"I wish you'd stop worrying." Wynter said breezily. Marjorie jumped a mile, her eyes wide as she whirled to the other vampire, still brushing her wings innocently.

"But…but I'm—"

"Yes you are. I can feel it."

Marjorie jumped again when she heard the sudden sound of wing beats signaling the falcon leaving the top of the display case to land delicately on Wynter's shoulder. She glanced at it fondly and then turned to her friend, "Whether you believe it or not, you've got what it takes. Trust me; after spending so many decades with Alucard and Integra, not to mention my time with Anderson, I can tell."

Marjorie scowled, "Oh really?" she grumbled, "Honestly, Samantha and I were just talking about that."

"What? Oh, don't tell me you're _still_ miffed about that."

"Of course I am. He decapitated you twice and nearly killed you three times."

"Six, but who's counting?"

"Don't sound so damn amused by it."

"Why shouldn't I be? I liked him; he made life interesting, if not entertaining. Everyone could use a little craziness in their lives, you know?" she said as she wandered out from behind the counter, removing her apron and tossing it on the rack. Marjorie turned on the stool, glaring at her, "Wynter, Father Anderson wasn't just crazy, he was a downright lunatic." She grumbled.

"In case you hadn't noticed, so am I." Wynter cackled, "Although I have to admit, he did seem to have a bit of a bipolar streak now and again, didn't he?"

Marjorie sighed wearily, "Whatever you say, Wynter. I know better than to—"

She was cut off when Seras suddenly tore out of the kitchen, nearly crashing into Wynter in her hurry to get to the door, "Emergency at the docks! Wynter, come on!" she screamed, hurling the door open so hard that she about tore it off its hinges.

"Did you forget you can go through walls?! Bye Marjorie!" Wynter yelled, taking off after her. The falcon lifted off into the air as Wynter spread her wings, following after it as she soared across the rooftops of the little coastal town, trailing her sister as she bounded from rooftop to rooftop toward the wharf. She swooped down and snatched her sister's arm, lifting her into the air and beating her wings harder to gain altitude and speed.

"Thanks, Wynter!" Seras yelled, "I got the call on my phone!"

"What's the problem?"

"Rogue vampire! Captain of a barge accidentally brought him over and he's got him barricaded inside the hold! It's a weak one, but he's as strong as he needs to be!"

"Well," Wynter said with a grin, "So are we!"

The wharf came into sight and Wynter thrust her wings back, dropping Seras toward the deckhouse roof. She twisted to the right, switching her momentum toward a large cargo ship where several of the Riot Squad were already gathered. She could see Roderick and his partner Josephine standing by the gangplank awaiting their arrival. Seras was the first to reach them, hurrying forward, "Any changes?" she asked as soon as she reached them.

"No," Josephine said as she tied her long red hair back out of the way, "There's been no further communication."

"One of the deckhands managed to escape and jumped over the railing as the ship was pulling in," Roderick explained, "We managed to fish him out. He said that the crew discovered a man hiding below deck and confronted him. He's a vampire from England. No one's died yet as far as we know, but he's holed up in a cabin below deck with about five hostages."

Seras turned toward the ship; the deck was silent, and so was the ship. The engine wasn't running. The ship was eerily silent. Her eyes narrowed, "Has anyone been sent in to try to calm the situation?" she asked.

"No," Josephine replied, "We're concerned he might kill the hostages."

"What about trying to communicate with him; see if he has any demands?"

"There's no way to communicate anything down to the hold without first boarding the ship." Roderick said. Seras sighed, crossing her arms as she wracked her brain for the proper solution. She glanced up only briefly as Wynter came up beside her, waiting patiently for her answer. She opened her eyes, "Okay everyone, here's what we're going to do. He hasn't bitten anyone yet, correct?"

The red-haired vampire nodded grimly, "As far as we're aware, he hasn't. I don't sense any other vampiric activity on that ship, including ghouls."

"That's good," Wynter said, "It suggests he's trying not to cause further trouble. It's likely he may be seeking asylum, here."

Seras nodded, "I'm going in. Wynter, you cover me."

"Right."

"Roderick, Josephine, I want you to gather three squad members to your teams each and follow ten minutes after us. Split up in different directions and we'll try to form an ambush. Take only the human members; if he hasn't bitten anyone by now, then he's not going to. Dominance clearly isn't his goal. The fewer vampires he can sense coming in after him, the better. We'll funnel him toward the bow of the ship and try to corner him by the water. When we get that far, Wynter, I want you to restrain him as much as you can. You have long range abilities."

"I'll do my best," Wynter said, baring her fangs, "Lead on, sis."

Seras nodded, her writhing shadow matter exploding from her back to form temporary translucent wings that shimmered in the sunlight.

"Go!" she yelled, launching off the dock and onto the deck of the ship. Wynter followed hastily, landing a few feet away from Seras as the younger vampire moved nimbly across the deck, pausing at the hatch leading down into the hold. She motioned Wynter to move parallel to her and keep an eye out.

"Can you sense anything?" Seras asked.

"…Yes…," Wynter mumbled, "He's about twenty feet below us. But I'm not familiar with the layout of this ship so I don't know exactly where he is."

"He can't hide forever; we'll find him. If you should find him first, restrain him, but don't kill him, all right?"

"Easy enough. I've got your back; go ahead." Wynter replied. Seras dove down the stairs with Wynter in hot pursuit. The belly of the ship was a maze of darkened corridors and shifting scents that would have confused any human mind. But for two exceptional vampires, navigation was relatively easy. Wynter gradually began to pick up the distinct sound of human voices, mumbling incoherently through the walls. But even with her advanced hearing, she couldn't pinpoint their exact location with the echoes bouncing off the walls of the ship.

Seras sensed Josephine, Roderick, and their respective teams boarding the ship and taking their positions in case they couldn't contain the vampire. Wynter's eyes blazed in the darkness, "We're close," she muttered, "I can sense him close by."

"Yeah, same here. I'll go in first and distract him. I want you to sneak in behind me and restrain him once I've got his attention." Seras instructed her.

"Okay."

Wynter darted to the side and seemed to crash into the wall. However, she'd simply deformed herself into a mass of writhing blue/black shadow matter crawling across the surface of the wall at high speed, turning a corner and vanishing into the darkness. Seras paused beside the bulkhead, focusing her eyes on a badly beaten and bullet-ridden door. Behind that door was the telltale sound of frightened humans, coupled with the sound of pacing footsteps. She inched up against the door, her eyes narrowing. A twisting tendril of shadow matter escaped from her left arm, slipping under the door and into the hinges, corroding them ever so slightly, just enough to make the door easier to break. Without hearing any sign of alarm from within, she felt the hinges give way and took a silent step closer to the door. She pulled her fist back and slammed it into the entrance, denting the steel and sending it hurtling across the room. The men inside scrambled out of the way as it smashed into the opposite wall, cries of terror near deafening in the cramped space. The vampiric target was frozen in terror as Seras stepped inside, claret eyes meeting his matching set as he trembled before her.

"W-Wha—? How did you—?" he stammered.

Seras ignored him and addressed the sailors, "All of you, out. Now!"

It didn't take a second hint for them to stagger to their feet and rush toward the door. Their former captor made no move to stop them as he stood, staring in terror at the easily recognizable stronger foe standing before him. Even so, as he regained his senses, panic began to kick in and he charged forward recklessly, lashing out to grab her. Seras didn't bother moving as a mass of thick black shadows erupted from the wall and rocketed into her opponent, smashing him against the bulkhead on the other side of the room and pinning him in place. He started to struggle furiously, even as the mass began to morph back into the humanoid shape of Seras's sister, still holding down her victim with ease as she waited for her sibling to approach for interrogation. Seras approached an intercom system on the inner wall of the cabin and pressed the button, "Attention everyone still on this ship, this is Riot Squad Leader Seras Victoria Hellsing. We have contained the threat in the hold of the ship. All remaining deckhands and other personnel, evacuate the ship at once."

She left the wall and approached their trapped target. She motioned for Wynter to release him, which she did without question. She stepped back, her right arm still bleeding shadow matter in case he should try anything funny. The second he felt he was free, he screamed in terror and attempted to bolt toward the door. Seras lashed out faster than the ordinary eye could follow, snatching his arm and hurling back to the floor of the ship facedown, pinning his arm behind his back and pressing his face against the steel floor.

"Please stop struggling; you're only making it worse for yourself." She advised calmly, "Since you've done no physical harm to the crew, we're willing to hear you out. If you continue to fight, we _will_ resort to deadly force." She told him firmly.

"You're here for a reason," Wynter added, "Tell us what that is. Perhaps we can help."

Their prisoner seemed to be weighing his chances, his eyes darting about feverishly in their sockets. Seras and Wynter waited patiently as he made up his mind and finally appeared to relax beneath the younger vampire's grip; "…Okay…I'll t-talk. I'll talk, all right? Please…just let me up. I won't run."

Seras slowly got off of him, allowing him to his feet. He staggered up, turning slowly to face them. It was then that they got a better look at him; his eyes were sunken in and his face gaunt. He was shaking, clearly weakened. Judging from his lackluster movements and reactions, it was clear he was starving and close to torpor. If he didn't drink soon, his body would shut down out of desperation.

"Seras," Wynter said, "Lets' take him back to headquarters for now. He can explain himself later; the crew are going to want to reclaim their ship."

"True," Seras agreed, "Okay, for appearances' sake, I'm going to restrain you until we reach headquarters," she told him, "But you're not under any form of arrest until further notice. This is only on the condition that you cooperate with us, understood?"

He nodded fervently, "Y-Yes, yes, of course!" he exclaimed.

He allowed his arms to be pinned behind him by the former cop as they made their way out of the dank and dismal hold of the cargo barge. Wynter walked behind them, her wings held loosely at her back.

"Are you a Daywalker?" Seras asked their "captive".

"No, I'm not. I scorch pretty badly." He explained. He jumped when Wynter suddenly threw her shawl over his head and moved to walk beside them, "There. Problem solved." She said cheerily.

Seras had Wynter run ahead to alert the others of the plan. When she and their captive made it outside, she saw that Josephine, Roderick, Wynter, and several of their human comrades had ushered the crowd back and away from the gangplank. It was then that Seras discovered the shawl had another advantage of hiding his identity from the angry crowd. While her companions held them back, she was able to get him down the gangplank and into a spot where she and the others could transport him safely to the bakery. However, this concept was easier said than done, as the incensed crowd fought back against the vampires transporting the captive. The human squad members maneuvered in between to try and add leverage against the growing threat of human onlookers.

"What are you protecting that mongrel for!? Throw him in the bay!" One man yelled from the crowd.

"That monster could've killed us!"

"You'd better not be playing favorites, you freaks!"

"Traitors!"

Finally, Seras's eyes narrowed and she thrust the vampire over to Wynter as she whirled to face the crowd, "That's quite enough!" she yelled, her eyes blazing, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that you all were very proud of your town that accepts and harbors vampires."

The crowd murmured amongst themselves and one of the young sailors stepped forward, "Well, yes, that's true, but he—"

"—Will be treated the exact same way any _human_ threat would be." Seras finished for him, "The only difference here is he will be dealt with by our vampiric representatives, not your human ones. We do not, will not, and never have played favorites in this town. That is final. Now then, I believe the disaster is over; if all of you will be so kind as to return to your business." She said, nodding politely. The crowd slowly and quietly dispersed, casting furtive glances back at them as they did so.

Wynter breathed a sigh of relief, "Nice work, sis."

"Uh, may I ask where you're taking me?" he chattered nervously. Wynter smiled at him, which made his hair stand on end for some reason, "Not to worry," she chimed, "You're meeting our leader. She's very nice."

"Uh…." He muttered, not sure how to respond to this. Seras sighed heavily, "Great. When Wynter smiles like that, there's trouble brewing."

"Sorry. One of the traits I picked up from Alucard."

"He really _is_ a bad influence on you." She grumbled. She turned to their wary captive, eying him darkly, "You've caused a _lot_ of trouble today. Your explanation had better be damn well worth it." She muttered.

A/N: Nothing much to say…I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	3. Three

Three

Marjorie sat at the table in the back kitchen, her chin resting on her hands as she eyed the newcomer across from her with a combination of distaste, confusion and empathy. She glanced at Wynter standing behind him with the falcon sitting on her shoulder and then at Seras sitting beside her, unmoving. Josephine and Roderick had left to meet with the town council to discuss ways to silence the incident from leaking out of the town and making its way to the capitol.

"So then," Marjorie began, "Since you've sent the entire town into uproar, would you mind explaining to us _why_? Lets' start with your name."

The newcomer was visibly anxious, fidgeting and staring holes into the table. He chewed his lip for a moment before looking up, "…My name is Trevor," he said, "I…I don't really have a last name."

"Do you know who your dam is?" Marjorie asked.

"My what?"

"The vampire responsible for turning you." Wynter explained. He glanced briefly at her and then turned again, "It…she lived next door to me and my brother back in Leeds. I didn't even know…I mean she never…she didn't…."

Wynter shook her head silently behind him and Marjorie glanced curiously at her. But a firm leer from the younger vampire told her to tread carefully. She cleared her throat and continued, "Is she still alive?"

"…No, she isn't. She died five days ago," Trevor explained quietly, "We were forced to leave. My brother found out about…well…never mind. When they caught up with us, she sacrificed herself so I could escape."

"When who caught up with you? Your brother?" Seras asked.

"No. The VX-11. Alais…she never stood a chance…." He muttered, bowing his head as his body began to shake from the repressed memories. The three vampires exchanged confused looks with one another and Seras returned her gaze to the newcomer, "The VX-11?"

"Y-Yeah…they took her down with just two shots. Alais…she was at least fifty years old; she knew how to survive. They killed her so easily. I _barely_ got away from them."

"Who are they?" Marjorie asked.

"I'm…I'm not sure, really. They surfaced recently. I'd heard that the Queen ordered the formation of a specialized anti-vampire hunting group. I'd assume these people are that group. As their name implies, there's only eleven of them, but they're strong."

"Does your brother still live?" Seras asked.

"…No…I…I heard him scream. But I couldn't…help him. I was too scared. I just ran. I found my way to London and boarded that barge. I'd intended on disembarking quietly once we landed, but being found sort of complicated that plan." He muttered sardonically, trying to save face after revealing the sad fate of his family.

Marjorie sighed, "Seras, I'd like you to report to Integra; tell her to meet us here as soon as she possibly can. Trevor, I'd like you to repeat your story to her when she gets here, word for word. Make sure to tell her absolutely everything, understand?"

Trevor nodded wordlessly, seemingly withdrawing into his own head from the shock and fear of his situation.

Seras hurried out, leaving Trevor with Wynter and Marjorie. The falcon on Wynter's shoulder lifted into the air suddenly and came to rest on the windowsill, looking out across the harbor. Neither vampire said anything to Trevor as he sat there, still as can be and looking quite pale. Wynter went into the back and disappeared around the corner. When she came back, she tossed a blood pack onto the table in front of him, snapping him out of the daze he was in. He looked up at her curiously.

"Drink that." She said flatly. His eyes fell on the pack and he mechanically reached toward it, simply doing as he was told. Marjorie watched as Wynter wandered over to her side and sat down, unfolding her wings to hang limply behind her.

"So," Marjorie said, "Can you tell us anymore about what's going on in England?"

Trevor lowered the half-empty blood pack, staring at the table. He ran a hand through his sandy hair and sighed, "I don't know what all is happening in London, but the entire country is getting over a bit of a meltdown. I'd heard that the people behind the primary extermination of vampires had vanished recently. I think their name was Hellsing. When I left, most vampires I'd known had been killed already."

"What about the state of the city?" Wynter asked. Trevor shook his head, "I'm not too sure, but it wasn't great. About four years ago, the country was placed under some pretty strict rules and it's been tense ever since then."

"What sort of rules?" Wynter asks suspiciously.

"There's been a curfew in effect for a long time, patrols all through the countryside, a ban on weapons to common civilians, that sort of thing. People suspected of harboring or even communicating with vampires have been incarcerated without a second thought. Anyone who's been caught breaking these rules has faced some pretty severe conse—hey…what's wrong?" he asked, noting the look of alarm on Wynter and Marjorie's faces.

"Oh…good lord…." Wynter groaned, sinking down on the table with a hand to her forehead.

"What?" Trevor asked, "Is that bad? What's wrong?"

Marjorie just shook her head slowly, her eyes distant and unfocused, "I can't believe it," she muttered, "Wynter?"

The younger vampire sat up with a sigh, her hand still to her forehead, "I can't either. The Queen's paranoia has gotten worse. She's imposed a martial law over England!"

/ooo/

When she arrived and Wynter and Marjorie spoke with her privately, Integra had a similar, albeit more infuriated reaction. Her eyes flamed she hissed angrily, "This is outrageous!" she exclaimed, "And how long did he say this has been going on?"

"He mentioned about four years." Marjorie said grimly.

"A four year-long martial law…," Integra grumbled, "This is…this is absurd."

"This is bad," Wynter said, "If the Queen is truly this terrified of our existence and she's actually using her power in this way, she may grow panicked enough to begin imprisoning her citizens simply under suspicion of _harboring_ vampires, whether it's true or not."

"Or it may have already happened." Integra mumbled, "Marjorie, how many refugees have we taken in recently?"

Marjorie looked a bit startled at the sudden question, "Uh, well, quite a few. We've taken about fifteen people in so far in the past two weeks. I'd have to check my records for a precise number, but I'd estimate we've seen close to thirty in the last month."

"And where did most of them originate from?" Integra asked.

"A good number of them came from the surrounding countryside. Several from France, a few from Ireland and a handful from Hungary."

"But not a single one from England?" Wynter pointed out. Marjorie's eyes widened at this and she gasped, "You're right! And England has a heavier population! We should have seen more refugees from there, but we haven't!"

"This explains why," Integra told her, "The martial law is prohibiting the citizens from moving about freely and the curfew is limiting movement even further. I'd imagine that all harbor traffic has stalled, necessary shipments as the exception, such as the one that brought Trevor over."

"And all those sailors are natives of Norway," Wynter continued, "So they wouldn't be affected by the trade restrictions."

"And given the current state of world disrepair, no one wants to step forward first to put a stop to this and risk instigating another war." Integra muttered.

"Trevor mentioned something about a new anti-vampire force called the VX-11," Marjorie said, "Is there any way we can find out more about them?"

Integra grinned slyly, "A simple matter. I still have sources in England. Give me a few days."

"I don't like this," Wynter muttered, "If the Queen finds out where we are, we're still too close to England to be completely safe. She _must_ know about the settlement at this point, but if she's desperate enough to get rid of us…." She trailed off.

Marjorie nodded, "I'll send a messenger to the King's cabinet right away. In the meantime, what do we do with Trevor? He can't go out into the town yet."

"If we let him go, the townsfolk will hang him from the yardarm," Wynter muttered irritably, "He'll stay in the spare room upstairs here at the bakery for now. Once things calm down a little more, we'll see about letting him out. Besides, we may need to question him more."

"I'll return to the house and check with my sources." Integra announced, leaving swiftly.

Marjorie sighed and faced Wynter, "You and Seras are free to go home for now. I'll call you as soon as I get any new details, all right?"

"You'd better." Wynter said with a chiding smile, "I'll leave Trevor to you, then. I don't think he'll give us anymore trouble. Seems I was right; he really _was_ seeking asylum."

She said this softly, almost pityingly. Marjorie glanced back through the kitchen door where the newcomer sat hunched over at the table, eyes glassy. Wynter was right; he wasn't going to do much fighting from this point onward. He'd already fought far too much.

She called Seras out from the back where she was still in the kitchen with Trevor. The younger vampire came out, her face grim. She joined Wynter at the front door as Marjorie saw them off.

"Be careful, you two." She said.

"We will be. You as well, Marjorie." Wynter told her.

They headed up the street toward the quiet suburban road that would take them home. Both sisters walked quietly, each lost in their thoughts on the tumultuous day they'd just had. However, both were also thinking about the inevitable chore awaiting them.

"So," Seras mumbled, "How are we going to tell Alucard about this?"

"Assuming he doesn't already know, that's a good question." Wynter replied.

"Wonder what he'll think about it."

Wynter shook her head, "With him? Who knows. He might even find it amusing."

"That wouldn't surprise me. So what are you going to do after that?"

"In the long run or just for tonight?"

Seras shook her head, grinning, "No, just for tonight. I'm done thinking about the distant future for today." She laughed.

"I'll probably take a nap and then go up to my garden for a bit. It's going to start getting cold in a few weeks. Best start harvesting now."

"Need any help?"

"No, I'm good."

As their house came into view, they noticed Alucard standing outside the long staircase leading up to the property. He appeared to be watching their approach, hands in his pockets and his trademark smirk on his face as he stood motionless in the road, save for his hair blowing in the wind. Wynter sighed heavily, "We needn't have worried; he already knows."

"Eyup." Seras grumbled.

Alucard chuckled bemusedly as they drew nearer, "Now why the sour faces, you two?"

Wynter leered at him, "Oh, as if you don't already know."

Alucard met her leer directly, grinning mischievously, "And who says I do?" he asked, turning toward her. Wynter threw Seras a sidelong glance and stepped away from him, "Because if you didn't know already, I'd suspect you of being a fraud. Alucard, you _always_ know what's going on. Go on, humor me."

He chuckled, throwing them a small, genuine smile for a change, "It seems I raised you both well," he said chidingly. The smirk was back, "I heard the commotion in the harbor. Seems a vagrant snuck onto this sacred land."

"Well, yes," Seras said, "He's being dealt with and our networks are abuzz toward England, looking for answers."

"Ah, I see," Alucard said, his eyes narrowing, "And is there anything you all would have me doing?"

"At the moment, nothing," Wynter replied quickly, "Just stay on the sidelines for now. We have enough to worry about at the moment."

She sighed heavily and stalked past him, "I'm going to sleep for a bit. Then I'm going up the mountain for the night." She announced as she ascended the stairs toward the house.

Seras folded her arms, "I'm on night watch later this evening, so I might sleep a bit, too." She said, "What were you off to do, master?"

"Integra tells me to enjoy this peaceful time," he said ponderously, "However, I'm not sure I remember how to. Perhaps I'll question Wynter later; a pacifist like her is bound to have a few tips for an aged old man like me." He said with a low chuckle.

"Pacifist?" Seras queried.

"Of course. You've never noticed?" he said, moving past her and heading down the road toward the town as the sun began to set in the west. She watched him go, her thoughts jumbled and scattered. She turned after a while, gazing up toward the house before starting up the familiar stone staircase. She started up, exhaling heavily, "I'm exhausted. Wonder what Integra is up to?"

/ooo/

….

…."Hey…hey! Get up! Can you hear me…? WAKE UP NOW!"

Wynter bolted upright, hurling her blanket aside, "What? Huh?!"

She looked around blearily, "Uh…I don't remember painting my room white…or foggy…." She muttered. She felt something poke the back of her head. Still groggy, she turned slowly and about jabbed her eye with a wooden ruler. Attached to the other end she saw….

"What the…? Who the hell are you?"

The disproportionate human figure standing before her in a ragged white tank top and striped pants started to shriek wildly before calming down with a heavy sigh, "I cannot believe you don't know who I am, insolent little whelp!"

Wynter scooted back a bit, staring blankly, "It'd help if you told me your name."

"Urgh…I am the pinnacle of pinnacles! The Emperor of Escrow! I am Mel Gibson, here to offer you the chance of an unlife-time!"

Wynter stared, momentarily distracted by a flying donut that whizzed past his head suddenly. He made a wild attempt to grab it, missed, and then gave up, returning his gaze to her, "YOU! You have been chosen, by Mel Gibson who is me, to star in my latest horror winter blockbuster!"

"Winter blockbuster?" she repeated

"Yesyesyes! All these summer blockbusters are more for the birds than those feathered abominations on your back! I have chosen YOU to star as my leading lady!"

"Me, huh?" Wynter asked, scowling darkly at him.

"I picked your name out of a phonebook and liked the way it sounded! You are as radiant as the moon on a Midsummer Night's Dream! As astounding as Aristotle's Aunt Alice! I _must_ have you to be my Cher!"

"Wait…Cher as in Cher Bono?"

"You could be twins!"

"The only thing we have in common is hair color."

He darted forward so he was staring directly at her much too close for comfort, "Never fear…," he hissed, "You shan't be lonely!" he declared with a leaping bound toward the other end of the room. Wynter stood up with a sigh, "Hey, whoever is writing this, please wake me up before I go completely nuts." She grumbled with a sidelong glance.

"Now, now, don't mope! Care to meet your co-stars!?"

Two other figures popped out of thin air with a sharp _poof!_ A cloud of smoke appeared and evaporated, leaving behind a shapeless black, mumbled blob and a hunched figure with an octopus draped over his head, waving listlessly at her. Wynter blinked a few times, "And…what exactly am I looking at, good sir?"

He jabbed a finger toward her face, grinning wildly, "These are your leading gents, my lucky girl! The Thing from The Black Lagoon!"

He swept his arm toward the blob: " _Blurp_."

"'Blurp' in the existential sense, of course," Mel quipped, "And the stunning Bela Lugosi!"

"Huh?" Wynter groaned, sagging slightly.

"Good evening," Bela said, his face completely obscured by the octopus draped over most of his upper body, "I do apologize for my lackluster performance. I'm afraid that my rubbery friend, Mr. Octopus here is missing its motor."

"I see." Wynter replied.

"NOW!" Mel roared, flailing back into view, "YOU are to be the sacrificial bride to these two denizens of the deep in order to appease the great He Who Must Not Be Named!"

"Voldemort?"

"… _Willisssssss_ …." Mel hissed, going cross-eyed as he did, "But he and his B-movies shall not have you! And, in return for your glorious services, I shall give you anything you desire! Name your price, my lady!"

Wynter glared at him, "Any price? Okay. I want a Stairway to Heaven."

A peal of thunder erupted in the sky and the clouds instantly turned pitch black as a wave of water poured down on them, drenching them thoroughly. Mel grumbled incoherently and then screamed shrilly, bursting into pink flames as he jabbered at her; "YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN COOPERATIVE AND ANSWERED HONESTLY!" He bellowed, the resulting breeze ruffling through her hair. Gasping heavily, he ground his teeth at her, "I'd have let you meet Curt and that 'Smelly Spirit' for Pennyroyal Tea in the Lake of Fire, you precocious beanbag! Take these hideous cement shoes as your punishment!" he screeched, producing a pair of stone clog shoes out of nowhere and shoving them toward her. Wynter turned away, holding her hand up, "You're missing the basic point."

Mel's jaw dropped along with the shoes, which cracked twice and then crumbled at his feet. His face went beet red, "How _dare_ you question my eptitude?" he screeched.

"Did you just say 'eptitude'?" Wynter asked wearily.

"He did," Bela confirmed, waving an octopus tentacle back and forth.

" _Blurp_." Said the blob.

Mel darted forward, "Keep up this ungrateful attitude _Cleo_ and I shall entrust your fate to this white cat alien—" he whipped a white cat with red eyes and two sets of ears out "—and he shall enslave your soul toward the progression of entropy!"

He dropped the cat alien, which promptly floated off through the air and out of sight. Wynter watched it go and then turned back to Mel, "Are we done here?"

Mel started to cackle fiendishly, grinning maniacally, "Not at all, Eleanor! Prepare to meet your doom! I summon to the field, my ultimate defense army extraordinaire!"

Three enormous blasts of smoke erupted into her vision, plowing Bela and the blob into the sky; " _BLURP!"_

Mel continued cackling as the smoke cleared and Wynter found herself surrounded by three more distorted human shapes, all grinning fiendishly at her as they approached. Mel began to laugh triumphantly, "My ultimate monsters! Be, Shatner, and Boll! Destroy her, my minions!"

Wynter groaned, "You're siccing _them_ on me?"

"No one can survive the loophole black hole of Boll's madness money-schemes! Be! Use all of your explosion knowledge to turn her movie into a demented sexualized gunfight! Shatner! Take away her power to speak coherently!"

Wynter cringed away from the caricature-esque Be as he wandered nearer, "Uh…am I allowed to kill this one?"

She cast about warily as they slowly boxed her in, Mel laughing crazily all the while. Suddenly, without warning, they all burst into flames, screaming in high-pitched falsettos as they crumpled to the ground screaming, " _Rosebud!_ "

Mel stared agape in horror as they fell, his face sagging in defeat. He let out a low moan of despair and sank backward, the wind lifting his paper-thin body away into the sky and far out of sight.

Wynter watched him go and then turned to glance at Robin Williams behind her lowering the flamethrower and grinning warmly. She smiled, "Thanks, I owe you."

"Not a problem, my dear." Robin Williams said pleasantly, "Don't you worry about those small potatoes on _your_ watch, not if you want to count your tomorrows accurately."

"Is that true?"

"Dreams like this are where careers come to die! And I came here to save you from a truly gruesome fate, Wynter."

She laughed, "You actually know my name."

"Of course." He said extending his hand. She shook his hand firmly and he grinned, "I can assure you my dear, you ain't never had a friend like me."

/ooo/

Wynter's eyes snapped open to find that she was once again lying in her bed under the covers, gazing at the ceiling in the room dimly lit through the black curtains. She blinked a few times, processing that she was now awake as she sat up slowly, undoing the braid in her hair as she turned to open the curtain. She gazed out over the coast, eyes glazed over as she leaned back against the headboard.

"Okay…," she mumbled, "No more watching old movies with Seras before bedtime."

She flopped back down and buried her face in her pillow, "God…." She grumbled.

A/N: Wynter hasn't had a crazy dream yet so I figured it was time to give her one. This chapter is dedicated to the late and wonderful Robin Williams. The saddest people smile the brightest and brighten the lives of others in the ways they can't brighten their own. If we'd only known how much pain he was truly in. The world lost a wonderful man when he passed on. May he finally reach the peace he so rightly deserves.


End file.
